


Han Overboard

by VaultedVendigo



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: A lot of trickery, Amnesia fic, Enemies to strangers to lovers?, Genji wants freedom, Hanzo gets amnesia and Jesse gets a plan, Hanzo is a total bitch, Hilarity Ensues, Jesse McCree is a Little Shit, M/M, Overboard (1987) AU, The epitome of slow burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-08
Updated: 2019-07-21
Packaged: 2019-10-06 14:49:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 17,866
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17347193
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VaultedVendigo/pseuds/VaultedVendigo
Summary: "Look!" Hanzo barked, rendering the room of doctors and Jesse silent. "I admit I have forgotten... numerous things," He said, his frustration bright enough that Jesse could cheer, "But I truly, from the depths of my soul, do not remember you!""I-" Looking convincingly hurt, Jesse swallowed his grin as he put a hand over his chest, getting a sympathetic look from the doctor. "Why honeybuns, I can't believe you don't remember your own husband!"





	1. King's Cove

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ((Eyyyyy, back at it again with my AU garbage!! Overboard (1987 version) is a childhood favorite of mine that includes amnesia, deception, women not taking shit, and terrible plans working too well for too long. Do not try at home. Feat. Rich Bitch (Extra Bitch Included) Hanzo, Trickster Genji, and 'I Make Terrible Decisions' McCree. I hope you guys enjoy!

“Do you expect me to just stay stranded on this boat until my dying day? What possessed you to bring us to somewhere like this?”

"Would you relax? You said you needed work done on it anyway, and we needed some supplies! I already sent for a carpenter."

Hanzo Shimada’s nose got a little more upturned as his brother spoke, annoyance worn easily. "What sort of supplies could be gathered in this... hovel?” He asked, eyes flicking out to look over at the tiny beach town they had stopped by. The yacht looked massively out of place; The shiny, untarnished white of the stern put the fishing vessels around them to shame. The few people milling about the docks at that hour were staring at it with a morbid sort of fascination, some wearing awe openly and others, annoyance. Even with the prying eyes, they had continued to pull in worn rope or gather up tired fishing nets from the darkened water. 

The map said King's Cove, Alaska, but Hanzo's heart said it had to be some form of hell.

"They have some of the finest fish in the world caught here!" Genji called back, a smile evident in his voice. Hanzo was on the top deck, getting ready to get into the (infuriatingly small) pool they had on board. Without a proper workout area, he had to resort to swimming to stay in shape on this trip, and he detested it. He was rarely a fan of water unless it was from a distance, and now he was stuck on a boat with his little brother for god knows how long. 

Like all good younger siblings, he seemed to enjoy making sure Hanzo had a miserable time on the regular. 

Genji was sunbathing a deck below at that moment, hands behind his head and looking all in all relaxed. The shock of green hair could be spotted from a mile away, as could his smug grin. The yacht had been a gift from their parents, with the insistence that they actually try to spend some time together. It had not been for either of them specifically, both long gone out of the Shimada mansion, but instead a joint present. To be used together as 'good brothers should'. 

Genji had been picking their stops, and so far they had all been places Hanzo resented. The next on the list was L.A., which at least sounded tolerable, but Genji wasn't making it ‘smooth sailing’ to get there. 

So far, it had been nearly three weeks, and Hanzo felt like he was a mere moment’s away from committing murder at any given second.

Slipping into the cool water of the pool, Hanzo rolled his eyes back before closing them. "It better be the finest fish money can buy, to justify this," he mumbled, letting his mouth get submerged under the chlorine water. 

The tiny Alaskan town would have to do, if only for three days. It was a very small fishing community, ‘quality meat’ be damned. Even the people he'd seen on the docks made him uncomfortable with the idea of bringing some grubby American carpenter aboard, but without a workout room he would surely kill his brother.

He would give the carpenter two days, and that was being generous. He blew bubbles into the water as he thought, giving himself a mental pat on the back for his kindness. Behind him, his hair seemed to seep across the water like an oil slick, tickling his neck and spurring him to start moving. 

_Whoever they are, their caliber better be to the greatest degree,_ Hanzo thought bitterly as he began the first of many laps.

-

"Jesse!" Fareeha barked his name so loudly that Jesse jerked halfway into a sit-up, his forehead meeting one of the pipes on the underside of his truck. It got a lowly sort of gong sound in return, Fareeha unable to hold back a laugh. Groaning, he used his feet to pull himself out from under the vehicle, one eye squinted as his hand went up to rub at his forehead.

"Jesus, you can use your inside voice," McCree griped, blinking a few times to try to clear the few stars that were swimming in his vision. He dropped the wrench he'd been using, the sound deafening in the small area. 

Trailing into the garage, Fareeha looked down at him, her mouth twitching up into a small smile as she leaned her hip on Jesse's rust-bucket of a truck. "Glad I could get your attention. You heading down to the docks soon?"

Fareeha Amari was both his neighbor and the nosiest person he'd ever met, making herself an adopted sister within the first six months of him moving to King’s Cove. They'd met after finding out that McCree's ex-commander was close friends with her mother. After six years, Fareeha owned keys to his house and didn't bother knocking anymore. Case in point: she had used those very keys to come bother him about information she shouldn’t even have.

Sitting up on the roller seat he'd been lying on, McCree looked up with the one eye he still had open, hair pulled back into a tiny ponytail with some strands falling in his face. "Got an appointment there in fifteen.” Jesse’s suspicion was obvious. “Why?"

"Because Hana called me to inform me of the 'stupidly rich looking yacht’ that pulled in," Fareeha admitted, having the grace to wear her amusement openly, "Do you think that was your mystery caller?"

"Eh, could be." Plucking up a blackened rag, McCree began to try to clear off some of the grime on his hands, to no avail. At this point, it had to be soaked into his skin as far as he could tell.

Fareeha's silence was loud as thunder.

Looking up and catching her gaze, his eyes rolled. "Jeez, alright, it probably is. If Hana's mad I didn't give the job to her, she can bring it up with me directly. They said they needed carpentry skills, not mechanical. I ended up takin' it myself."

"Ah, the boss out on the field, interesting. Well, since your noble steed is still out of commission-" She patted the side of McCree's currently broken down truck, "Would you like a lift?"

"Plan on eyein' down our rich customers?" He teased, holding up his hand. Fareeha clasped it, hauling him to stand before passing him the hat that was hanging off the side mirror above him. She'd teased him relentlessly for years about how he refused to lose his classic Southern cowboy look being so far North, and the hat falling into place as he adjusted his belt buckle made her roll her eyes. "You know you don't have to do security duty anymore right?" he asked, elbow swinging out to bump her gently.

"Yes," She said flatly, giving him a pointed look, "...But there are not too many reasons for a multi-million dollar yacht to pull up to King’s Cove. I'd rather be paranoid than sorry. It's a town of less than a thousand, and our export is fish. What could they want here?"

"Sight seein'? A pitstop? Hey, I'll give 'em the benefit of the doubt. If they wanna bump our local economy through me, then Deadeye Repair ain't gonna complain," He said, reaching into the back of his truck and grabbing out his toolbox. It was his nicer set, used specifically for outcalls, and lord knew he'd probably need them.

Jesse McCree was 27, running a small company that did every repair job for his town, and was in desperate need of a little financial 'bump'. His ex-commander, whom he'd followed to Alaska, had been able to offer some help in that department. Although... that had been a long time back, and it was one of Jesse's biggest flaws to be as prideful as he was. Asking for help just didn't feel right, and his employees Lena, Hana, Lucio and Brigitte all needed paychecks to make sure they could keep fed.

A good paycheck from some rich folk could do a lot of good, and he wasn't about to look that gift-horse in the mouth. He'd do this job fast, do it well, and keep his damn head down. Nothing was gonna distract him from that paycheck.

-

"Monsieur," Amelie's light tone drifted through the concentration of a good workout, Hanzo stopping halfway through another lap as she approached the pool. His assistant had her gaze locked at a data pad in her hands, her long dark hair pulled into a high ponytail and sharp eyes flicking over the screen. "We seem to have…visitors."

"Visitors?" He repeated, moving towards the ladder and pulling himself out. His breathing was only somewhat strained, hair sticking to his back and having to be pulled in a ponytail to be tolerable. "Why would anyone-" When Amelie passed off a towel, her amber gaze hardened, answering the parroted word for him and earning a grunt. "Oh."

"Oh indeed," She said with subdued annoyance, crooking a finger to get him to follow. Amelie led the way, heels tapping a sharp staccato while they neared the main deck while Hanzo toweled off.

It wasn't hard to figure out they had 'company', considering Hanzo could hear them a good ten seconds before he could see them. Towel going over his shoulder, he shared a look with Amelie before turning the corner and catching the full sight.

One of them was a woman, with dark hair and tanned skin. Her eye had a tattoo that resembled something from Egyptian culture, if Hanzo could place it right, and she was both tall and muscled. If anything, she looked like some form of security, and was currently hissing something to the man she was standing next to.

The… Cowman. 

Hanzo's nose tipped up a little, looking over the stranger. He was wearing a ridiculous cowboy hat, an overtly gaudy belt buckle, with worn out jeans and an equally distressed dark plaid shirt. His honey-colored gaze was locked on his companion as the two had some sort of heated debate. He stood taller than Hanzo by a mere few inches, but he wasn't quite as broad in the shoulders, and one of his arms seemed to be glinting with metal.

For a moment the two didn't seem to notice that Hanzo and Amelie had arrived, until Amelie had to clear her throat and gained both of their attention.

Both heads swiveled to look, the woman seeming to stand to attention and the man looking positively dumbfounded.

"I can only assume you are the carpenter?" Hanzo said, addressing the man holding the toolbox. When he nodded, Hanzo turned around, beginning to walk towards his training room. "You're late."

From behind, he could hear a quiet, 'later, Reeha,' before there was the padding of quick footsteps, the carpenter trailing up to follow Hanzo. "Apologizes, partner. The names Jesse McCree, I-"

"Do you make a habit of being the only work we can find, and not showing up on time?" Hanzo asked, cutting off any chance at conversation as he adjusted the towel to be draped around the back of his neck. Hanzo's hair was trailing water down his back and he hated it, forcing him to have to adjust while they walked and tie it in a bun.

"Uh-" Behind him, McCree went silent, before his tongue clicked, "I was told by a Mr. Shimada Genji to be here around noon, and it's, well-" Hanzo looked over his shoulder and watched the carpenter flick his finger up, pointing at the high sun, "It's high noon."

"To you, it will be Mr. Shimada," Hanzo corrected, "And you will call me as such as well. My brother is the one who set up your job here, though do not misunderstand; If one thing moves even slightly out of place, my assistant, Amelie, will know. She will be keeping an eye on you."

"Oh I would never-" Jesse began, but was cut off as Hanzo took a sudden left turn. It led the pair of them into a well sized room, which looked to have been left mostly empty when the ship was being designed. Hard wood covered the floors and the walls, stained dark and lacquered brightly. A few pieces of furniture and the place would look like something ripped out of a palace, but at the moment seemed to be only containing some expensive looking cases. Behind Hanzo, McCree gave a whistle, nodding. "Nice space."

"Make sure not to touch anything," Hanzo specified, walking forward. "I need this to be a practice range. I am currently learning archery, and I need a place to put my equipment away. I cannot be getting into these-" Nudging one of the cases with his toe, he flicked a hand, "Boxes constantly. I would prefer hooks, to keep access easy. I also need a closet built, for both training clothes and supplies. I would prefer to keep my regiment in this room alone, as traveling all over this boat to keep my schedule intact is borderline exhausting." 

Turning around, he saw the carpenter nodding, tongue poking the inside of his cheek. "I'd been told this was somewhat urgent," He said, earning narrowed eyes from Hanzo as the heir crossed his arms.

"It is. We leave port in three days."

Nodding more solidly, McCree gave too easy of a smile, "Alright, you want me to… Make you a workout room and closet."

"Is that not what I have been explaining in some detail?" Hanzo questioned, already sensing how many problems were going to be afoot with this man. Outside of his ridiculous apparel, he was already seemingly out of his depth, looking completely out of place in the fine space. 

Looking at Hanzo with almost a critical gaze, his smile continued, polite as ever, "So it has been. So, three days, huh?"

"You have 48 hours. I suggest you get started," Hanzo said, breezing past McCree and pausing next to Amelie, who was standing near the door. "Keep an eye on him," Hanzo muttered, getting a sharp nod from her in return. He was only halfway done with his workout, and he was doubtful his workout room was going to fully functional by the time they went to L.A.

-

When they got to the docks, Fareeha's fun demeanor stopped short, her expression hardening the second they neared the yacht. The size of it alone was ridiculous, but the mere aura of the thing sent her on the defensive. "I'm escorting you up there," She insisted, much to Jesse's dismay.

"Oh nah nah nah, the hell you are. I can't have you ruin this job for me by grillin' some random rich folk."

"What are you talking about? You hate rich people."

"I hate them when they ain't payin' me," He corrected, before his faux-sister rolled her eyes and began trekking up the dropstairs that connected them to the docks. "Fareeha!" He hissed, scrambling after her.

"I am just here for supervision!" She insisted, moving quickly enough that he couldn't seem to catch up. To be fair, she ran a good ten miles just for the hell of it bi-weekly, and Jesse had a tendency of napping instead of hitting the gym. By the time he made it to the top with a quiet wheeze in his lungs, she was already standing on deck, looking around with lofted brows.

Jesse couldn't help but mirror the expression; This ship was _nice_. 

The mere planking itself looked to be made of dark tinted wooden boards, sealed in with some type of resin that had only been roughed slightly to give it texture. The pillows on the lounge chairs probably cost more than his house, and suddenly Jesse was starting to think that maybe, _maybe_ , these people were gonna take this much more seriously than he'd thought.

"Who are you?" The sharp, French tinted voice got both of them starting, Jesse and Fareeha turning to look at a woman with a gorgeous face and a viper-like demeanor. She looked about as friendly as a thousand foot fall, making Jesse damn near stutter when he went to introduce himself.

"I'm Jesse McCree, the carpenter. I-" Reaching a hand out for a handshake, he was startled into silence as she looked at the offered palm and turned on heel, heading back down the boat without a word. Watching her go, Jesse gave a soft sigh to himself, sinking back into his own skin somewhat. "Aw, hell."

"You cannot do this," Fareeha decided for him as she came up to stand next to him, Jesse turning to look at her like she'd spoken in tongues.

"The hell you mean?" He damn near whispered, trying to keep his voice low as a tiny voice in the back of his head agreed with her. He had no idea when that lady was coming back, and he couldn't afford to give her a reason not to hire him.

"Do you _see_ this?" She asked, motioning at the single deck they were standing on. There was at least one more deck above it, and the boat felt as long as football field. This small glimpse was already a level of luxury neither of them particularly liked. "Did you see that woman? How she treated you? If you so much as sneeze wrong, they will charge you. Who's to say they'll even find your work to be up to their standards?"

"Hey!" Jesse all but barked, "I do good work, and you know it."

"I know it, and the whole town knows it," She aimed to soothe, though she refused to back down, "But when you could afford to _buy_ the town, I don't think their opinion particularly matters. If anything happens, they may expect you to pay for it."

"I'm here to get paid, and that's what I'm gonna do," He tried to insist, laying a hand flat between them for emphasis, "I ain't gonna pay for nothin', I ain't gonna break nothin', and it's gonna be-"

That was the moment that the sound of a clearing throat got them both snapping to attention, and in that second McCree could have sworn he saw an angel.

The man was a little shorter than him, wearing soaked swim trunks and a scowl. His hair was dark and pulled back, with a towel over his shoulder and only partially hiding a muscled chest. He was well built, that much was obvious, and it took a lot of training that McCree hadn't tapped in on for many years to not openly look him up and down. Next to him, Fareeha stiffened to stand straight.

The tattoo of a dragon caught his eye, and in an instant Jesse regretted taking this job.

The man looked like he could kill him with his pinkie, and on top of that, he looked like he wanted to.

"I can only assume you're the carpenter?" The stranger asked, and Jesse felt himself nod dumbly before the man's scowl worsened. "You're late."

Mr. Shimada, as he'd come to find out, really did _look_ like an angel.

Right up until he opened his mouth.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ((Writing 'total bitch who's better than you' Hanzo is perhaps too much fun, short lived as it will be. Loved it? Hated it? Want to know the plot of Overboard? Feel free to drop a comment!! Thank you for reading! ^^


	2. Y'all

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ((Apparently every chapter will be long lol. Anyways! There was some direct dialog usage from Overboard bc the writing was killer, but I did aim to make it more of a sibling rather than a twin. I hope you guys enjoy!

48 hours was not enough time. 

The first of those hours were spent scoping out the room, trying to find a way to make the space functional. Thankfully, it was long enough that McCree could put decent distance on a range, but that didn't change the fact that they were on a _boat_ , so it was still lacking.

An archery range. On a boat. “Fuckin’ rich people,” He muttered to himself, pencil in his teeth like a cigar as he remeasured the length of the room.

The walk-in closet, while huge, was fully barren of any sort of shelving. There was also a good chunk of empty wall that could be the housing unit for the bow and arrows themselves. When Jesse had to open the cases to get measurements of the weapons, the assistant from earlier looked less than thrilled at his request. She held open the case just as long as it took to get a rough estimate before snapping it shut, moving it out of the room.

It made him even more sure of the fact that he wasn't these people’s first choice in a builder. Hell, he wasn’t in the top hundred, but that only hardened his resolve to prove he could do better. Tucking his pencil behind his ear, Jesse’s phone met his hand as he leaned on the wall.

For this task, he needed muscle.

"Hej," Brigitte greeted brightly when she answered, earning a sigh of relief from McCree. It was only then that he'd realized he'd been silent since he got there, which he hated. Small town folk loved to chat while you worked, and McCree wasn't too proud to admit to liking some gossip from time to time.

"Brig," He greeted in return, scratching at his cheek, "I'm gonna need some haulin' done, you up for the task?"

"I think I can squeeze it into my schedule," She said, though Jesse could hear the teasing in her tone, "What can I grab you?"

Canvas sheets, one of his hand rotary blades, a shop vacuum, a few dozen pieces of oak he had in the back of his truck, and his nail gun. The list seemed to go on and on, but pleasant as ever, Brigitte just made sure to assure him she'd be on her way shortly. He was almost mournful when she hung up, the silence damn near stifling. 

At very least, it gave him a chance to begin to sketch out some ideas.

-

"They brought another one?" Genji was currently leaning on the railing of the top deck, looking down at the stranger approaching. She had red hair in a long ponytail, and seemed to be carrying wood and some various supplies. Beyond that, he couldn't make out much more detail. The cowboy came out, called out to her, and began climbing down to haul the timber up.

"You had to hire _this_ one," Hanzo mumbled from were he was sitting, flipping another page in his book. Going downstairs right now didn't even feel like an option, making him feel even more cooped up than before. At least he had a chance to lounge, the Alaskan sun warm but not enough to burn him.

"He was the _only_ one," Genji snipped back, glancing back and sticking a tongue out at his brother. "And his reviews were good enough, at least. What, does he seem that bad?"

"He seems incompetent," Hanzo said, settling back further with his book, "What rate did you give him?"

"I wasn't sure of the proper rate," Genji admitted, looking back down to continue watching the cowboys helper. "I told him $2,500 for the job."

"$2,500?" That got Hanzo looking away from his book. "That is far too much."

"Eh, I offered it! Incentive is key, Hanzo. Maybe he'll do even better work!"

"Just-" Sighing, Hanzo went to put on sunglasses, "Make sure he is not bringing even more ingrates on my ship. I don't need to clean up any messes, I halfway doubt they are housebroke."

This earned a snort from Genji, before he assured, "I am sure that is part of the license requirement, brother. If you are so worr-"

Hanzo's hand whipped up in a flat palm, silencing Genji before he sat up more. "... He's listening."

"Listening?" Genji parroted, "You really think he's eavesdropping?"

"I am sure he has been all day, but-" Pushing himself to stand, Hanzo went to look over the edge of the balcony. It was clear of anyone, the carpenter nor his helper in sight, yet that didn't sate him. "I can only assume it is one of the few things keeping his life interesting."

"Sound does not carry that well here. Sit back down, you look like a Doberman." His brothers goading ended up causing Hanzo to pull back, though that didn't keep him from glowering at the railing.

So far, he didn't like this carpenter.

-

"Ingrates?" Brigitte whispered, with Jesse waving a hand as she set the timber down with a clatter.

"For this place bein' so rich bitch, sound carries. I'm damn sure that's what he said." Jesse may just have good ears, but they were also less than subtle up there. At least he could whisper, unlike some; It had been three hours, and he was already exhausted from this 'Hanzo' and his attitude.

His brother seemed somewhat nicer. He wasn't a fan that they were unsure if they were 'housebroken', but even that seemed too mean spirited to tell Brigitte, so he kept it to himself. 

"He hired you!" She reminded, freckled nose scrunching as she crossed her arms, "Why would he if he thinks you're incompetent?"

"Because we're the only company in King's Cove," Jesse pointed out, rubbing at his face. It wasn't for skill, but convenience alone, starting him off on uneven footing. Add in that he’d been demoted to ‘incompetent’ after saying less than thirty words to his temporary boss, and his anxiety was beginning to creep to the surface.

Jesse had to finish this job. He had to get this paycheck.

They were just making sure he earned every damn penny by spending his remaining sanity.  
Brigitte was able to stay and help with a few tasks, like cutting boards to size and getting them temporarily placed. Two pairs of hands were better than one, and it was nice to begin seeing progress instead of all the undone work ahead. At one point, the severe looking Mr. Shimada stopped to check in, now fully dressed in a tee shirt and athletic pants and looking between them with a raised brow.

He caught McCree’s eye (unsurprisingly), causing the carpenter to pause and Brigitte to follow suit. "I did not realize we were paying for two," Hanzo commented after a beat of silence, his gaze falling on Brigitte. She lifted a hand and gave a tiny wave before a nervous smile followed. Staring at her for a mere moment, Hanzo turned to speak to McCree, looking fully unimpressed, "I had assumed you wouldn't be up for the task, but I didn't expect you to call for help so early."

Next to him, Brigitte stiffened, but McCree tried his best to ignore the red tinting his vision. So, taking a deep breath, he gave another strained and polite smile before setting a hand on Brigitte’s shoulder. "She was just leavin'."

"I'm sure," Hanzo said, finally leaving as Brigitte pushed herself to stand. The two shared a look, Brig opening her mouth to comment and only getting a short head shake in return. Thankfully she understood fine, before he gave her a tight smile and a nod, his employee leaving after assuring to help him again if he needed it.

Getting this done in two days seemed nigh impossible when he was back by himself.

Already, he was planning out what he could work on at home and bring in, meaning measurements being taken nine ways to Sunday. It would take working through the night to have it done by tomorrow, and installing everything would take up most of the day as well.

Placing boards, removing, installing pegs, making a stand, removing the stand, cutting to size, figuring out mechanics. The list went on and on until the sun dipped below the horizon, and Jesse was told to return the next morning by Hanzo’s assistant. It felt like a genuine dismissal, the way she flicked a hand and watched until he was on the docks. 

Somehow, he hadn't caught a glimpse of either of the Shimada brothers after the quick run in. If he didn't know any better, which he did, he'd admit they seemed to be avoiding him. In it's own way, that was a blessing considering it helped him keep his sanity.

Thankfully, another neighbor of his had been near the docks by the time he was sent home, and he'd hitched a ride back in their pickup. McCree was expected bright and early, and while a cold beer and a long rest sounded enticing, it was also a distant dream at that moment.

_Remember the paycheck, remember the paycheck, remember the paycheck-_

His internal mantra was cut short when he opened his front door, the overwhelming din greeting him and thankfully waking him up a little bit.

His house was basically an employee lounge at this point, and looked destroyed as ever. Chips littered the floor while music played too loudly, Lucio asleep soundly against the couch with his speaker blasting by his side. Hana and Lena were playing some sort of video game that they'd hooked up to his holo-screen, while Brigitte tried futilely to clean up some of the constant mess.

The second the front door creaked open, Hana's hand flew out to shut off the game, earning a disgruntled cry from Lena while she scrambled to stand. "Jesse!" Hana's call was hard to hear over the music, causing her to reach and turn down Lucio's speaker.

"Hana," He responded with a tired tip of his hat, the other two women stopping and turning at his voice. The mechanic damn near bolted to get onto the couch, arms draping over the back similar to a cat before she began grilling him.

She was small, even for being damn near 20. Long brown hair, pink marks on her cheeks that she usually only put on for a stream, with a fitting pout as Lena lofted a crumpled ball of paper at her. Hana ignored it, focusing on Jesse.

"Was the guy really that bad? I heard his butler lady was a wicked bitch, but Fareeha said he was worse! And Brigitte was just telling us about how he talked to y-"

Jesse lifted a hand, rendering her quiet as he failed to bite back a yawn.

48 hours just wasn’t enough time for this. He was beginning to believe that Mr. Shimada had known that when he hired him. Or, at very least, when he’d set the time limit. 

"Alright, look." Glancing between the four of them, even with Lucio still snoring five feet away, Jesse took a deep breath. "I gotta ask you guys for a little bit'a help. I don’t like havin’ to resort to this, but I’m damn sure I’m in over my head. I know none of y'all are in the carpentry game, but this job has a big ticket on it that I can't afford to lose.” Pausing, he held up a finger, “Wait, _we_ can’t afford to lose. This dude’s a damn piece of work, and he didn't give me at all enough time. To get this done by sundown tomorrow, I'll need some ingenuity, and-"

"And you have us! Can’t think of anyone who fits ingenuity better, love," Lena said, her brows wiggling as she hip bumped Brigitte. She was the tiniest of the group, even shorter than Hana, and an incredible electrician. A wild shock of poky brown hair bobbed as she gave a resolute nod, seeming to constantly buzz with energy no matter what the hour. While she was only a few years younger than McCree, she acted more like the 'Team Aunt' in terms of chiding and moral, and the moral was key at the moment. 

Next to her Brigitte almost towered, but wore her own happy smile. "Ja, we can whip something up! You have measurements and tools here, no?" She asked, watching Hana deflate a little from the sidelines.

"And to think I wanted to stream tonight," Their mechanic sighed, Hana slumping against the couch dramatically before her own smile won over. Seeming to perk up, she propped herself up onto her elbows, leaning even more over the back of the couch.  "Are we talking about 'upstaging' levels of ingenuity?"

"If we can manage," Jesse admitted, grateful when he received three resolute nods and a snore. Hana looked over and rolled her eyes, grabbing the remote from the end table and whipping it at Lucio.

It hit his shin with a solid 'thunk', the audio expert shooting to sit up as a hand went to his leg. "Whoa, what g-"

"You gonna help?" Hana asked immediately, not looking phased by his dumbfounded look at being ripped into an agreement.

"Uh-" Looking around at the group, he gave a two finger wave to Jesse while trying to figure out what she was talking about. "Help?"

"Yes or no?" She questioned, Brigitte holding back a snicker behind her. It was like watching an interrogator with a helpless suspect, he looked so lost. To be fair, he’d missed the whole discussion, but he was too sweet to ever refuse help to anyone, no matter what. 

Another second of silence, and he gave a concerned, ".... Yes?"

"You're too kind, Lu," Lena said, giving him a wink before clapping her hands. "Alright, bossman! Tell us what we've gotta do!"

Looking around at the crew, Jesse's tired smile turned crooked, motioning for them to follow as he aimed for the garage, "Well....."

-

When Lena drove him to the docks the next morning at 7:45 AM, both of them felt as half dead as they looked. In the backseat, Hana and Brigitte were leaning on each other while they snoozed. The only one who even looked somewhat put together was Lucio, who was leaning between the front seats to talk to them. 

"So-" McCree was lazily counting off on his fingers, trying desperately to keep his brain in check even when it felt like it was melting. "You said the wiring-"

"Oh man, it's easy!" Lucio assured, setting a hand on his shoulder. "When you get everything installed, attach the matching wires to corresponding colored ports. Except for the green, that's attached to the silver tongs. Also the pink wiring meets up with the red near the base of the switch. And make sure to attach the yellow wire last, otherwise you may cause a short circuit."

Looking back at him with a deadpan expression, McCree made eye contact with Lucio for ten very quiet seconds before repeating, "Yeah. Easy." 

"We're here!" Even Lena's usual bountiful pep was waning, sounding closer to average human politeness than not. If it weren't for her ex-barista skills and some well made coffee, they'd all probably be dead by now. Parking the truck, she turned to look at Jesse, her smile kind. "Here we go."

In the back seat, Lucio gently shook Brigitte's shoulder, the girl waking up almost immediately. When she sat up, Hana almost dipped to fall behind her before she startled awake as well, the pair having matching bloodshot gazes. "You ready?" Lucio asked her, raising both of his brows with a worried tone. 

"Vad?" Brigitte seemed dazed for a moment before snapping to attention, rubbing at her eyes with her palms. "Yeah! Yeah, we got this!" 

As they all piled out of the van, Hana still damn near draped on Brigitte's arm and Lucio moving to unload the 'project', McCree felt a swell of pride. 

His crew had stayed up through the night with him, which was already a blessing. But the work they'd done was phenomenal, and looked the part to blend in with this kinda ship. He'd snapped a few pictures, when that angry Amelie chick was gone for a few minutes right near the end of the night. They were a good reference, and using them he'd gotten a good stain and lacquer on the oak he'd used. 

The pieces were all set into nice piles, a few bags that he could tote up there without the older Shimada brother popping out to bite his head off. Sure, it would take damn near ten hours to get everything put into place, wired in and polished off, but they were gonna get that paycheck. Hell, for the work they did, this crew deserved a bonus in the end. 

Right after he used the bulk of it to pay off the debt he'd worked up to keep paychecks flowing during the slow season. 

That worry had loomed over him for nearly three months now, the bank insistent on payments and his wallet too dry to offer any. This, while not enough to pay it off the whole debt, would be enough to start working on a payment plan. This paycheck would buy time, and his smile was genuine as he hefted the first dufflebag over his shoulder. 

Brigitte slipped the remaining two dufflebags over either shoulder, and Hana not so subtly got starry eyed at her fellow mechanics strength. She ended up scooping up a few heavier tools, earning a quiet chuckle from Brigitte as she began to tote them towards the stairs. Brigitte followed closely behind, with Lucio flicking through the smallest bag that had the entirety of their electronic rigging. He'd numbered them and color-coded them, but had still written down instructions as well. For that, McCree was thankful, his metal hand twitching at the idea of messing with electricity. 

Lena dashed ahead of the group, exclaiming about the ship and looking back at them like it was at all possible to miss. "Did you see this behemoth?!"

They could do this. 

-

Hanzo's morning workout was interrupted by the sound of laughter.

It caused him to flounder mid-stroke, getting a mouth full of chlorinated water and spiking his annoyance tenfold. When he clambered out of the pool, coughing to expel the liquid, Hanzo rushed to the edge of the small lido deck; he watched that damned cowboy waving away a small group of people, his deep chuckle loud enough to be heard from where Hanzo was. 

Even after bringing in a large amount of equipment the day before, he somehow had four more bags around him and several more tools. Stretching his good grace, Hanzo found himself to be thankful the man hadn't allowed the motley crew aboard his temporary home. That didn't stop his mouth from running, wet hands gripping the railing. 

"That seems like an overzealous amount of equipment, for a single day of work," He called down, watching McCree turn to look up at him. Though the distance was great, Hanzo could see exactly how smarmy that grin was, and resented him impossibly further. 

"I'll have it done tonight!" Jesse easily called back, offering up a two finger salute and earning a glower in response. With shoulders that suddenly seemed more squared than before, he began hauling the bags he'd brought towards the room in question, and Hanzo couldn't stop watching. 

"… I knew this was a bad idea," He mumbled to himself, pushing away from the railing and ignoring the fact that he could hear the thudding of the materials meeting the floor. One small problem, and he had every right to fire him, and they could finally be on their way towards proper civilization. 

-

By 3 pm, Jesse was wishing he had either whiskey or cocaine. 

Sitting back against one of the tarps he was using to keep the floor from any damage, Jesse allowed himself to momentarily lounge against the pile of oak behind him. The pieces, while mostly constructed, still needed to be properly mounted before they were able to get wired up. While it was daunting, Jesse found himself making good time, feet sliding out in front of him as he groaned. 

He was left in a worn a-shirt, the white having dark circles under his neck and arms and still somehow not breathing well enough for his taste. His flannel was discarded next to his lunch, which he reached over for and finally dug into. 

It was some sort of meatball dish, the sauce smelling heavenly even if it was cold. The Lindholm family was large, kind, and always offered left-overs. Plucking one up, Jesse popped it into his mouth as he began to look around at everything done; the panels in the empty closet were finally removed, and the range itself had everything installed. While it felt like he was swimming against the current, he was proud of how quickly things were coming together. _I need to give them a raise,_ he thought as he picked up another meatball. 

"Forks were invented so that man could at least make a pretense of separating himself from the apes," A voice said from the doorway, causing Jesse to damn near choke to death as he inhaled sharply. Thankfully, the meatballs were large enough not to, and his anxiety kept him from hacking up a lung the way he wanted to. Hanzo seemed to watch the spectacle, only looking around the room when Jesse finally got his bearings. 

As he stepped into the room and passed the carpenter, Jesse finally managed to start chewing, looking down at his meal and away from the man who was wearing a shirt more expensive than his house. "So were thumbs," He mumbled, sucking the sauce off of his thumb as he pushed himself to stand. 

"What was that?" The sharpness of the words made it clear Hanzo had heard it just fine, but the smile Jesse offered was innocent enough. He watched the carpenter wipe the remaining dampness on his pants, his face making it clear how disgusting he found that, before Jesse waved a hand. 

"Just my stomach," He assured, much to Hanzo's annoyance. 

"You should get that looked at," Hanzo said, looking down at the range portion of the room. "If they even have doctors here," He tacked on, trailing towards where the replaceable targets had been installed. The distance was nothing amazing, but the room didn't lend to that; The new wood forming this into a narrowed pathway was about a half-shade lighter than the floor, which Hanzo could have fixed later. Otherwise, the target idents were sized properly, meaning he could get the cushion replaced and reinstalled himself with no problem. 

The cuts looked clean enough, though the wall where he wanted to hang his bow still looked positively shredded, and the closet looked even worse. When he turned, Jesse stood a bit straighter again, highlighting their height difference as Hanzo tipped his chin up. "You expect to have this finished in a few mere hours?"

"Finished, polished, and perfect," Jesse assured, arms crossing over his chest. Silence fell as they both played some silent game, neither understanding the rules but knowing that they wanted to win. 

The eye contact remained, though Jesse found himself fully aware of every second wasted by his lack of movement. Ten seconds passed, then another five, before Jesse finally ducked his head. 

Damn. 

"I'm gonna get back to it. Unless you'd like a mask to keep the dust n' fumes out, I'd recommend-" 

"I will give you a wide berth," Hanzo said, the corner of his mouth twitching up at his silent victory as he began to leave. "You have seven hours."

"I appreciate the reminder," Jesse griped, thankful Hanzo didn't comment again as he finally left the room. So much for lunch. Looking around at the hole ridden wall, the various piles of wood, and the mass amount of dust and tools, Jesse ignored his own exhaustion. 

The next six and a half hours were non-stop. 

Sanding the cut ledges, getting the metal inlays fitted, getting their pieces from last night built. Piece A-1 getting A-2, A-3, and A-4 connected flat to B-1 and so on, with Hana's messy scrawl his only guide. This was his forte, sure, but the weird placing of wood was a method that she had apparently learned from YouTube two weeks prior that 'Would save time, just trust me!'

By he time he used a soft mallet to seal together the jointing, he was pleasantly surprised; it felt sturdy, and had fallen together pretty easy after the initial placing. 

The wiring began to get worked into the wall as he placed the turn-style plating at the bottom of the shelving units. His face was dripping sweat, and he'd absolutely kill for a shower and a nap, but the satisfying 'click' as the plating met the proper grooving was good enough. Once it was nestled in, he could get the wiring pinned along the bottom, before he put the vanity cover on and made the whole thing actually look nice all over again. 

"Colors to colors, green to silver, pink to red, yellow last…" The mantra was repeated as Jesse slowly began taking care of the least comfortable component. In the end, that portion itself took an hour, but by the time he was getting the touch-pad sealed in, he was confident. A touch to the left side of the panel, and the machine whirled and turned, enough to earn a huge sigh of relief. 

The work continued with tarps getting stuffed away, dusting happening non-stop. His shop-vac was emptied twice, both times with that assistant Amelie carting the bag out immediately. He'd complain, but Jesse wasn't about to turn down absolutely any form of help when he was still scrambling. 

Duffle bags by the door, tools loaded up into them. The electronic ones were put into a tarp-like bag, waterproof and smaller, while the rest were shoved in with his tarping and sandpaper. 

9:37 pm was when Jesse finally looked around the room and gave a grin, a hand going over his chest. It looked presentable, the lighting worked well with the additions. Outside, the sun was just beginning to dip down into setting, and it made him feel like the timing ended just about perfect.

It was a damn fine room, if he did say so himself. 

"Wow." Damn near jumping a foot at the word, Jesse looked over at the other Shimada, who was leaning to peer into the doorway. He had a shock of green hair, softer features, and looked like a less 'holier-than-thou' person than his brother. Logic dictated that they were both probably bad in their own ways, but so far this guy hadn't made shitty commentary so Jesse liked him much better. Genji, was it?

"Howdy," Jesse greeted, earning a glance over from the man before he stepped more fully into the room.

"That was quick," He commented, walking toward the closet so he could peek inside. "I knew I hired good work!" Genji exclaimed brightly, earning a chuckle from Jesse as he fixed his hat. 

"Much obliged, by the by. This was a good job to get right about this time of the year."

"I am simply glad it is finished," Genji said, looking back with a glint in his dark eyes, "If I had to listen to Hanzo bitc-"

"You're finished." Both men turned to look as Hanzo entered, falling silent while the elder brother looked at his sibling. Genji just held his hands up in surrender, gesturing at the room before he left without a word. He seemed unhappy with Genji in there, and while McCree assumed there was history behind that, he wasn't gonna ask. 

Watching him go, Jesse cleared his throat, looking back to Hanzo. "Yeah, I'm done. I'm finished, it's uh-"

"What is it?" Hanzo asked, seeing the faint blue light of the new touch screen on the wall illuminating the dark space of the closet. 

"It's your closet," Jesse responded obviously, earning an eyeroll as Hanzo strolled forward. The light turned on automatically when he entered it, highlighting the changes in the space. The left side had been modified, so he had room to hang up any clothing items he may use while training. Though the right side, that was what had taken all of the work. 

The wall itself had been recessed, so the shelving units were now pushed into the wall. Jesse reached out, pressing the touch screen and watching as the shelves shifted back a good foot, over a shelf length, and then pushed forward to reveal a new set of empty shelving. "It improves your closet capacity by a good bit, and can also be used for security reasonin'," Jesse informed. This earned an incredulous look before he showed how there was actually sliding doors to cover it, blending the contraption to look like a normal shelf when they were pulled shut. 

He opened his mouth to begin leading Hanzo back into the main room towards his weapon rack, but was stopped. "But what is it?" Hanzo asked, causing Jesse to blink. 

"It's your-"

"Yes, I _know_ it's my closet, but what is it made out of?" The question threw McCree for a loop, causing him to stall. 

"It's called wood, like the rest'a the room. It's oak." 

"Oak?" Hanzo repeated, scoffing as he left the small area, "Why am I even amazed."

"I don't know, why are you amazed?" McCree asked, eyes narrowing him as he watched him leave. 

"An oak closet?" His tone alone made Jesse's anger spike, "Any carpenter on the planet should know a closet is made of cedar; if not, we get moths." Leaving the room without even looking at the rest of the work, Hanzo exited out onto the walkway while Jesse scrambled to follow. 

"Is there a big moth problem, out on the ocean?" McCree couldn't help but clap back, earning Hanzo to stop and look at him like he was a dog peeing on the carpet. Clearing his throat, Jesse took his hat off, running a hand through his hair. "Look, if you want it outta cedar, I can do that, but it'll more than double my estimate on this. Not to mention take another few days." 

"Double?" Hanzo repeated, scoffing, "I would not be paying for your mistake." 

"My mistake- What the hell are you even insinuatin'? You never specified a type of wood, and it's good work, your brother said so."

"It is not his room, it is mine, and I will not have my training attire eaten to death by moths," Hanzo insisted, tone hardening further, "Should we stay, you would be doing this work for free, to fix this problem and make up for staying in this port."

"Whoa whoa whoa, I ain't just gonna eat it on this deal-" Jesse insisted, taking a step closer while Hanzo's nose scrunched.

"Why not? You look like you could manage." Hanzo looked down at McCree's stomach, and Jesse had to physically restrain himself from throwing a punch. "You _will_ eat it, because it should have been cedar."

"If you had wanted cedar, ya should'a asked for cedar." 

"The entire civilized world knows that a closet is made from cedar. It is not my fault this place is so far behind that you lost that information," Hanzo snipped, turning to continue walking and making it to the main deck. 

Watching him go, McCree could almost feel Reyes barking at him to keep his mouth shut from here, and he went disobeying him as per usual.

"Well here in Kings Cove, we don't know much 'bout anythin' sir," Jesse finally snapped, his accent theatrically thicker and more hickish as he followed, "In fact, us ingrates can hardly scrape together enough money to buy one TV to keep us entertained! You're lucky I am housebroke, so I didn't ruin your nice floorin' during this job while sittin' on my ass doin' nothin'." 

That, Hanzo whirled around at, Jesse caught off guard by the movement as Hanzo shoved a finger into his chest. "You _were_ eavesdopping." 

"Well with such a borin' life, it's hard to avoid-" Jesse said, voice returning to normal with his drawl dragging it as he glared down at him.

"You can avoid it now, because you're fired," Hanzo said, finger shoving harder without McCree budging. Jesse lofted his eyebrows at this, acting hurt. 

"How will my reputation manage? Just pay me the $2,500 you owe me and I'm gone." 

"You are not getting anything," Hanzo said, and that's the first thing that actually made Jesse look openly startled. Shoving him back a step with a mere finger, Hanzo began to walk back towards the room they had just left, a goal in mind now. "The job was not done to my satisfaction, you did not earn a cent." Lifting his chin, his voice was loud as he called out, "Captain Bastion, start the engines!" 

The lowdown rumble in the boat was subtle, but still caught Jesse's attention while his incredulity won over.

Heat blooming in his chest, the sting of the finality and the loss of all that work won over. His voice was booming as he raised it to be heard, hands clenching uselessly at his sides. When he was younger, he'd had a legendary temper, but as he'd gotten older he prided himself on how well he kept his cool. 

Until now. 

"You know what your fuckin' problem is?"

From above, he heard someone go, "Yooo, what?" before that tuft of green hair was there, Genji looking down at the pair of them with some sort of suppressed glee. Next to him, Amelie looked down as well, with Hanzo's annoyance at this obvious. 

Still, Jesse continued, "You got so much money pourin' out of your ears you ain't used to people tellin' you no. I bet you're used to bein' able to be this snippy, high strung dickhead because the only people that stick around are the ones you pay. The work was good, and you and your ugly pride are too damn stubborn to admit it, so you're inventin' somethin' to bitch about." 

"Enough!" The elder Shimada barked, but Jesse continued to follow. 

"Usually you can probably throw money at a problem and make it go away, but right now you're stuck between payin' for my silence and bein' too disgusted my by social status to accept my work. You owe me, and I need that money more than you need that damn training room. The perfectly good trainin' room!"

"If you do not leave this boat-" Getting back to the room, Hanzo grabbed one of the bags of tools, all but shoving it into McCree's arms. It caused him to stumble, getting saved from falling into the water only by the walkways railing, "I will _make_ you leave." 

Technically, Jesse knew it would be wrong to use any form of Black Ops training on some rich asshole, but his heart wanted it to the point of pouring out a chuckle. There was no way Hanzo was getting him off this boat without a fight. "Oh, you can sure try, sugar," He said, leaning against the railing of the walkway while watching Hanzo walked closer to him. "But until you pay me, I'm stayin' right-"

Sharp eyes met Jesse's before two hands met his shoulders, shoving _hard_.

Jesse's feet flew up as he tumbled off the side of the boat into the water, bag of tools still in hand and hat flying off of his head.

When his back hit the cold ocean, the shock alone winded him. The burst of bubbles floated towards the bright sun, and McCree had to drop the heavy bag of canvas and hammers to get back to the surface. When he broke it, he gasped for air, metal arm going to dead weight by his side as the definitely-not-waterproof prosthetic went into life-saving mode. "Hey!" He shouted, seeing Hanzo as a much further away blur tossing over his other bags of materials. "Not my tools-!"

The splashing of each bag was like a nail in his coffin; There was no way he could afford to replace those tools, especially after not getting paid for this. The shop vacuum was the last, following with a loud splash while the hose tried to float. In the end, it was the last part that dipped underwater, giving a few sad bubbles in its wake. 

Above him, Jesse heard Hanzo clear his throat, earning his attention again. "I told you I would make you leave," Hanzo called down, his eyes burning holes into Jesse's as he looked down at him. Then he turned and walked away, not even glancing back while the sound of people on the docks came back into focus. 

The gigantic ship began to push away as McCree tread water, the sight of his bags of tools sinking and causing his chest to clench. 

Fuck. 

-

"Where is he?" Fareeha's voice cut through the crowd easily, followed by Hana, Brigitte, Lucio and Lena in a nice little conga line. Fisherman and dockworkers alike stepped aside to make room as they bust into the clearing at the edge of dock E-16. 

They had been told by him that he would be done at 10, and had planned to be there to surprise him. The diner they were going to go to was only a ten minute drive, and the plan had been to celebrate getting such a good job during the slow season, and to their success of pulling it off. Jesse had promised to get pictures of the finish product, even. 

It was when Hana spotted people running towards the docks that they were tipped off to something being wrong. By the time they got down there, there was a small crowd gathered on a single pier and the large boat was gone, and they saw; 

Jesse McCree, town carpenter and repairman for King's Cove, sitting in a puddle of seawater with a dead arm and empty pockets. "Best catch today," He said, giving a wink and earning a chuckle from a few of the bystanders while his friends got closer. 

"What happened?" Lucio asked, looking concerned as the day was long as he crouched down to give McCree a once over. He was cold to the touch, but not about to freeze to death, and his prosthetic was worse for wear. That, he'd hand over to Lucio's expertise later, but for now- 

"Anyone got a smoke?" Several different people went to dig into their pockets, but a surly older woman ended up handing over a cigarette before the rest of them. She'd been the fisherman to find his hat as well, and earned a nod. "Thank you kindly," He said, accepting the lighter she offered so he could get the cigarette lit. 

For there being a good twenty people around, it was quiet. Everyone here knew him from the work he did, having needed boat repairs many times over, or house repairs in the off seasons. Sure, none of them knew him outside of the professional sense, but in a weird way Jesse was taking it harder because of that; These were all his clients, and they had just plucked him out of the water a few minutes prior in a humiliating fashion.

"McCree-" Lena began, before her boss held up a hand to stop her. Taking a long drag on his cigarette, the plume looked nice against the sunset, and he couldn't help but try to relish this moment. 

Yeah, he was waterlogged. There were people out there right now trying to get his tools for him, and for that he was eternally grateful. His employees, his sister, the other people of his town were by his side and ready to help him. 

All of these positives were something worth taking a moment to appreciate. 

It didn't change the fact that he'd just lost the $2,500 he needed to keep going. Or that his company was now going to go under in less than a month. 

Another deep inhale, an exhale, and Jesse pushed himself to stand. "Drinks at Reyes first. Talking, later." 

-

When the night had finally fallen, and Kings Cove was out of sight, Genji padded into the open doorway of Hanzo's new training room. "You didn't have to push him overboard, you know," He pointed out. His brother didn't look up, instead continuing to inspect his arrows carefully. 

He was sat on one of the low ledges in the closet, and Genji would be the first to admit it; the carpenter did a good job. The miniature range was clean and simple, the closet looked sleek. Hanzo, at some point in the last hour, had moved his supplies out of their boxes and into the new shelving unit. At the moment, he was in his hakama and kyudo-gi, looking ready to train even at the late hour. "He would not get off the boat," Hanzo said, arm slipping out of the right sleeve of his kyudo-gi and tucking it into his belt. 

"You did not pay him," Genji ventured to argue, though little fire behind his words. "I was surprised you did not make him fix it." 

"He admitted to eavesdropping on us and was aggressive. I was not about to allow him on our ship any longer." While Hanzo was a drama queen, those were fair points, earning a shrug from the younger. 

"Eh, we will all move on in time." $2,500 couldn't matter that much, right? Plus, the amusement of watching someone attempt to take Hanzo down a peg had been worth the whole debacle, so there were no losers in it from his view. "Well," Genji began, unable to bite back his yawn, "I am heading to bed." 

"I will be here," Hanzo responded, finally standing up straight and gripping his chosen arrows tightly. "We shall be reaching Los Angeles shortly."

"Then we may actually have some fun!" Genji teased, earning a rare and small look of amusement from his brother before he finally left him.

Looking around the room, Hanzo felt no guilt. It may be okay-ish work, but there was room for improvement. Not to mention that McCree was obviously looking for a reason to fight. Turning towards the weapons shelf, Hanzo stiffened; His bow wasn't there. For a moment, he wondered if the carpenter had somehow done something with it, before remembering that he'd kept it on the top deck to keep grubby hands away from it. He could ask Amelie to bring it down, but-

_'The only people that stick around are the ones you pay!'_

Rolling his eyes at his own hesitance, Hanzo just gripped his arrows tighter and stood. Why did his opinion matter, anyways? The answer was that it didn't, and he was getting the bow himself to stretch his legs. Nothing more, nothing less, and it definitely had _nothing_ to do with that horrible cowman.

Leaving the small room, Hanzo's hand lightly touched the railing as he began to walk towards the main deck, the rocking of the waves lazy. He was about halfway there when the boat began to turn; it was a sharp motion, like their captain had forgotten how to steer properly. While a usual turn should have been subtle enough to be negligible, this plus the waves hit at the exact wrong time. The whole ship gave a dip and rocking motion, sending Hanzo stumbling against the very railing he'd pushed McCree over a mere few hours earlier. A hand went out to catch himself, but the sea-misted metal was hard to grip, sending him tumbling straight over with a loud yell that was cut off by a splash. 

The water was _freezing_. His arrows dropped and forgotten, Hanzo broke the surface with a sharp gasp, a shiver wracking through his body as he watched the ship carry on without any problem. "Genji!" He called out as loud as he could manage, though it sounded so quiet compared to the noise of the waves. "Amelie! Genji!"

Another wave knocked into him, sending him sputtering with a mouthful of water, and the boat began to get too far away. "Genji!"

His feet kicked, trying to catch up with it, but even with waterproof prosthetics they were too heavy and cold. Hanzo's eyes widened as he realized he was being left behind, his mouth opening to call out to Genji again before another wave hit him. 

The boat continued on.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ((Disclaimer; no he does not drown, do not worry my friends. Other disclaimer: the next chapter is going to be gr8 so I hope you guys tune in! Otherwise, thank you for reading!


	3. The Plan

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ((Yall the OG movie didn't think of SHIT for consequences for kidnapping/lying about a marriage, so this took. A lot lol. I hope you like it, and thank you so much for your patience!! Also McCree N' Co are ride-or-die levels of devious

Genji had fallen asleep to the rocking of waves and the lulled voice of some infomercial.

He had woken up to the sound of someone badly singing on the news, way too early in the morning.

Groaning, his hand tried wildly to hit for the remote, but instead all he did was knock the volume up a little higher before it fell over the side of his bed. Whining further, a bloodshot eye cracked open to peek at the screen, the skittish woman on screen seeming to be trying to hush the impromptu-musician. His singing was booming and off key, Genji reaching to wrap a pillow around his head only to find that that too was off the side of the bed.

Damn his sleep turning.

"Yes thats- That's lovely, really, Mr. Wilhelm!" the woman on TV insisted, before turning back to the camera and reaching up to pat his shoulder. "Though our viewers are also interested in learning about your discovery from this morning. As well as your music, of course! But back to the mystery man....?"

The picture that pulled up had Genji's eyes going wide as dinner plates, scrambling out of bed with no sleep clinging to his bones. "Ja, ja," the man began, the subtitle under his name reading 'Reinhardt Wilhelm'. Clearing his throat, he began his tale, "We saw him floating in the water, like a- Hmm. Oh! A buoy! Bobbing, like-" The very animated fisherman tried to mimic a human buoy, though it was relayed poorly considering he took up most of the screen; The man was a _behemoth_. Long white hair that was slicked back with sea water, and a long scar over one eye betraying his pinning gaze should have been intimidating.

His goofy demeanor completely ruined it.

Reinhardt took another pull on his cigar, blowing out a monstrous plume while the reporter politely tried to hold back a cough as he began gesticulating, "We saw him and went to scoop him up with a net, but for being so tiny he was heavy! His head knocked the side of our ship when we went to pull him up, and what do we find? That his legs are made of _metal_."

"Metal?" she parroted.

"Yes, fully replaced!" Pulling down on the scarred skin near his left, clouded over eye, the half blind goliath laughed, "Though I know about missing hardware, so even _I_ could spot it! You see? Like 'eye', I? Ah, well. Eventually, they had to lean me over the side to scoop him up by an ankle!" His laugh was as big as the man himself, the skittish reporter flinching from the sheer volume. Reinhardt seemed to realize, and began to quietly apologize.

Not that Genji was paying attention any longer.

Glancing at his door, then back at the screen, Genji blindly tried to reach for his phone. When he got it, he hit Hanzo's number, listening to it ring as disbelief kept him from charging from his room. Another picture was pulled up, of his brother half awake in front of a white background looking all sorts of worse for wear. His hair was down and stringy from the sea water, and his skin looked dry, yet there was no mistaking him.

"Dad is going to kill me," Genji mumbled to himself as Hanzo's voicemail rang out. His attention went back to the TV, the thin reporter now alone as the boisterous news guest called randomly to the people on his ship to join the newscast.

Her words were hard to hear over him, but Genji got the main message. "-held on a transport vessel heading for King's Cove, to the medical center located sixty miles north of the city. If you have any information on who this man is, contact the number at the bottom of the screen. Unfortunately, he seems to be suffering from short term amnesia, and-"

Typing on his phone again, Genji gave a new call, the monotone hum on the other end of the call all the answer he needed. "Captain Bastion? I need you to turn back to King's Cove. Full speed."

-

The news report aired at 6 a.m.

Genji was at the hospital by 8:42 a.m.

Though his instincts insisted otherwise, Genji stayed quiet on this whole business of his brother being off the boat. To cover his own tracks, Genji requested Amelie assist the chefs below deck with preparing breakfast, keeping her from asking about where Hanzo could possibly be. Captain Bastion, bless him, never even asked why they had turned around. Instead, he simply pulled up to the final docks back at King's Cove, Genji anxiously waiting to disembark while the locals milled about their own business.

For a moment, he was worried the yacht would be the definition of obvious, before remembering that Hanzo had hardly let either of them be seen, let alone spend time amongst the people. They had no clue who he was, even if the yacht was back. Of course, people stared, but he waited until there weren't many people looking before he snuck off their ship and into the populace.

His outfit was a clean looking suit, with glasses to help him hide from prying eyes. While the suit definitely was out of place, he didn't really receive more than a few sideways glances.

The docks reeked of fish. Every person who walked past him gave a nod or a small greeting, hauling various materials and usually covered in sweat, sea water, blood, or some unidentifiable dirt. This was probably why Hanzo had refused to let him off the boat last time, but Genji found himself greeting everyone with a charming smile and building excitement. He'd forgotten how fun it was, to explore a new place!

God, his brother could be such a killjoy.

The next task was to flag down a cab, which he ended up having to call one since there seemed to only be one business for it locally.

The ride from King's Cove had been... Damn near pleasurable, actually. Genji had hired a local cab driver, an omnic with many interesting stories, who seemed excited at such a large fare. They chatted the whole way up, and by the end of it Genji had nearly forgotten why he was driving an hour out of town, or why he'd turned around in the first place. It was only when the kind driver had pulled into the parking lot of Numban Health Center that he remembered that his brother was currently locked up and suffering from amnesia. Right. he hadn't even told the cab driver why he was going up in the first place, simply saying it was for 'business'.

"Could you wait here for me?" Genji asked when they parked, getting out of the car and straightening his suit.

"It would be silly to begin the drive back only to retrieve you in twenty minutes," the omnic insisted sagely, though he still gave a chuckle. "That and I do believe I am the only driver in the area, making your choice today limited."

"You drive a hard bargain," the younger Shimada insisted, flashing a smile before he headed inside.

For being considered the 'bigger hospital', the place still felt like a shoe box, leaving Genji to pull at the collar of his shirt momentarily. To think that Hanzo was housed here, no matter how temporary it was, was low key hilarious. He'd be pissed about it later on when he got his memory back. Hell, he'd probably pissed that Genji left him for so long even though he got here as soon as he could. Ah, well; At least he could return him to a nicer hospital in Hanamura, that could get his head on straight.

The lobby was empty, the small front desk unattended. He only had to wait for a moment before an exhausted looking nurse bustled past, and he had to wave her down twice before she noticed him. "Oh!" she said kindly, giving a little smile, "Yes, can I help you?"

"I think am here for the amnesiac?" he ventured carefully, and she all but lit up.

"Oh thank _Christ_ , come with me!" she insisted, waving Genji along, "He's..... Whoo, is he something else."

"Really?" Genji asked carefully, following along and pointedly not removing his sunglasses. They went three doors down the hall, and the woman ducked into a small side room off of the third door. It seemed to be some form of observation room; It had what Genji assumed was a one-way mirror, considering the confidence in which the woman approached it, and a speaker below it. Motioning through the tinted window, she poked a thumb at the left bed, which was currently surrounded by three doctors.

"We put him in here because he gets so angry when anyone enters his room," she admitted, though a glance back at the medical staff had her sighing. "Well, so much for the secrecy. Looks like he's already being 'aggravated' by Ziegler."

"Can he see us?" Genji asked conspiratorially, looking at his brother. He looked angry, sitting up in bed with his arms crossed and hair down, with dark circles from hell adding to his glare.

"Not unless he's Superman," the nurse insisted, pressing a small button next to the speaker. Hanzo's voice filled the small observation area, sharp as ever.

"What do you mean you 'do not know'? Extend your brainpower, any amount, if possible!" he snapped, the rice pudding cup he had being thrown at the one way mirror. The nurse flinched back, but Genji didn't. "Do not think I am unaware of being watched! Do you view me as an experiment?"

"Not at all," the calm blonde doctor, Ziegler, responded. Her voice was kind, if not stiff, "You seem to be suffering from temporary amnesia; It was either from the shock of the cold water, or hitting the boat when you were being rescued."

"How temporary is it?" he growled out, the doctor looking back at her clipboard.

"We do not know," she responded honestly, Hanzo's mouth opening to snap at her before she held a finger up, "You otherwise seem to be a healthy man, so I do not believe it should be long."

"Listen to me," Hanzo began, his hands pressing together as he began to scrape together the beginnings of a composure, "Medical people. Thus far, my life has a history of a disgusting fishing vessel, legs missing below the knees, and a horrifically sugary breakfast. I refuse to be subjected to this type of malpractice! Surely a competent doctor could figure out a way to reverse this in less than an hour, and you have been graced with several-"

Turning off the speaker, the nurse looked over at Genji, and from her expression, he could tell she was getting used to Hanzo acting like this. "This your missing person?"

Yes, that was his brother. And yes, for all their differences, Genji loved his brother.

But the cab ride up alone had been lovely.

Even his morning, on a ship without him, had been enjoyable!

Who knows how nice L.A. would be without Hanzo's tyrannical rule of their ship, or bitching about that carpenter.

And he was safe here, right? He wasn't going to be killed, or hurt. In fact, the doctor who was now leaving his room seemed to brush off his awfulness better than Genji had ever been able to! Not to mention that when Hanzo regained his memory, he'd call him and Genji could come get him! He'd be mad, but he'd been mad before. It was like a vacation for each of them.

Turning back to the woman, Genji shrugged, clearing his throat, "I have never seen that man before in my life."

 _Hello, sweet freedom_.

-

They only recovered half of the tools he'd brought.

It was the more expensive half, thankfully, but the fact that he'd lost the payment and a chunk of his equipment had Jesse considering asking for tequila.

Instead, a plate of hot food was pushed in front of him, and he snuck a french fry off the side of it.

"Eat," Gabriel insisted almost gruffly, and Jesse was hard pressed to argue. He opened his mouth to make a request, before ketchup was also pushed forward, shutting him up again.

Yesterday had been one of the worst days he could remember, and he'd lived through the military with the worlds most notorious hard-ass of a commander. Granted, that was the same man who was wearing a partially soiled apron and was trying not to look at him with too much concern, but hey, times change. He'd gone to Gabriel's house to get drunk as a skunk, but the drive there had been enough to get him to crack and talk to his crew. The pressing of questions from all sides had the story spilling out, and by the time they were walking up to the front door, none of them really seemed to want to drink heavily.

That didn't change that they were sprawled all over Gabriel's living room the next morning, the salt and pepper beginning in his beard worsening every time Jesse made him take care of the group of his employees. Though he took it in stride, cooking enough to feed a small country with more burgers and home made fries sizzling away on the stove behind him as he wiped off his hands.

Dark eyes looked over Jesse carefully, the barely noticeable laugh lines near them crinkling as his brow furrowed. Last night, the group had come in and chatted with him amicably, all falling asleep pretty quickly after he allowed a few beers. They knew, that the business was going under. In a small town, jobs were hard to come across, and they all understood the severity of what a lack of a check could do. That it could render them homeless, and that they were on the tail end of viable stability for the foreseeable future.

Maybe Gabe was going soft in his old age, but he let them sleep in far later than he ever let McCree, who's internal clock still woke him before the sun and left him to his own devices. Fareeha had left early, to go talk to her mother about a possible way of helping Jesse with his finances.

Jesse had obtained foraged documents and joined the ranks when he was 16, and it wasn't until they were being deployed and in the air that Gabriel figured it out. That put Jesse at roughly eight years the junior of everyone else in their division, and made Gabriel nearly strangle him when he flicked back through his papers ten times to confirm.

Maybe it's the reason Gabe had tucked him so far under his wing for the next five years, and had all but adopted him by the time he lost his arm in combat. The life in their black ops division was made easier by Jesse's history with forgery and stealth, as much as it pissed Gabe off, and had been too useful not to utilize.

Gabe retired from his position ten days before McCree had gotten injured, and extended an offer to move to the town he had so he could get back to civilian life. Under the condition that their past stayed in the past, and Jesse acted like a normal person and not a Bond villain. No more forgery, no more lies.

So Jesse had made Deadeye Repair proper, no tricks up his sleeves. He did it _right_ this time, the only time he ever had, and the business wasn't going to live to see the next year.

McCree felt his appetite leave him.

Gabriel pushed the plate closer.

"Eat," he said again, turning back to check on everyone else's food. "Sulking isn't going to help you here, energy will. We'll spend today and clean up your tools before figuring if we can make some form of payment. Selling that truck would be step number one."

As much as Jesse adored the thing, he still nodded as he picked at another french fry. "Seems so."

Glancing back more fully, Gabe gave a scoff, some of his odd form of humor seeping through. "Ive given you twelve hours and you're still sulking, this may be a new record."

"It ain't sulkin-" Jesse began, but that earned an actual laugh.

"Then stop looking at a butter burger like it killed your business. Eat, the world is gonna keep spinning. How are the repairs on your arm going?"

"Lu said it needed to dry overnight, but the lockdown it does in water is pretty sufficient. Glad at least one thing ain't gonna be expensive."

"Push comes to shove, we can replace it with a real sharp stick. Might come in handy, next time some pompous fuck tries to push you off a boat," Gabriel groused, though he still tried to keep up a light tone.

"I ain't gonna stab anyone," McCree assured, though it felt like an empty promise. If he ever ran into the Shimada asshole again, he may have to think twice on that statement. 

"I'll help," a tired voice said from the living room, Jesse's gaze shifting to look at Hana. She was flopped partially over the arm of the couch, phone in hand and eyes bloodshot. "He was a total dick to you, he deserves it."

"That ain't enough reason-" Jesse began.

"Nah I think she's got a good point," Gabe admitted, earning a chin tip of solidarity from Hana and a glare from Jesse. "What? Not my fault she's out for blood, he earned that all on his own."

McCree opened his mouth to give a rebuttal, before Hana made a disgruntled noise in response. "Uhh-" Hana was staring at her phone like the screen was in the wrong language, and looked up at the pair of them with surprise and confusion on her face. "Have you guys checked the news?" She asked, watching both men shake their head again.

"Why?" McCree and Gabe asked in unison, Hana's doe-like gaze finally leaving her screen to look at them.

"You're not gonna believe this," she said, though her slowly growing wicked grin had Jesse shifting in his seat.

"I don't know if I trust that look," he said, and she all but bound over the arm of the couch to get into the kitchen while Brigitte stirred from the noise. She held up her phone like she had solved a murder mystery, her rapid fire explanation background noise to the evidence provided.

"I usually check news and stuff to help wake me up, and this was the top article for local news. Apparently Reinhardt was on the news this morning-" She wiggled the phone, the headline 'Local Fisherman Makes Unbelievable Catch' bold and red. "So I wanted to check it out, and _look at why he was on the news_." Her finger dragged, flicking the screen down to show what damn near looked like a mugshot of no one other than Shimada Hanzo.

"What the f-" All but snagging the phone from her, Jesse began to rapidly read the article while she laughed.

"Oh my _God_ so it is him! I wasn't sure, but he looked how you and Brigitte described him! This is-" Cutting herself off, she let out a large breath, "This is perfect, actually. Apparently they're going to send him to the bigger hospital an hour north of here! We should go up there and demand your money, and extra for the tools he broke! He doesn't have a big fancy yacht to push you off of this time, and-" Hana began to list off, a groggy looking Brigitte walking up to join the group.

"Did I hear Reinhardt's name?" Brigitte asked, red hair down and tangled from sleep as she scratched a hand through it.

"Guess who your godfather fished out of the water this morning?" Hana asked excitedly, all but bouncing in place.

"Hold up," McCree ordered, drawing silence from the small pod. Lena's snoring could be heard from the other room. "He's got amnesia."

" _What_?" Hana asked, "I didn't read that part!"

"Who has amnesia?" Brigitte asked, never having gotten an answer from Hana on her little riddle.

"Shimada! The guy who pushed McCree off the boat!"

"Is that who Reinhardt fished up this morning?" Lindholm asked, looking at Gabe for confirmation. He shrugged in return.

"Reinhardt fished up a person this morning?" Damn near everyone jumped when Lucio's voice called from the living room, followed quickly by Lena's.

"Why are we all being loud? It's 9 in the ruddy morning, some of us want sleep!"

"Oh my _God_ both of you need to get the hell in here!" Hana snapped, turning back to McCree. "What else does it say?"

Scrolling further down, a video started automatically playing, the voice over recognizable as their local news anchor. _"This morning, one of our local fisherman made quite the catch fifty miles off shore of King's Cove."_ It flicked from a picture of Reinhardt's fishing vessel, the Crusader, to another picture of Hanzo. Lena and Lucio finally trailed in, all 6 people huddled around the screen. _"The mystery man, currently known as John Doe, was found floating in the water early this morning, at around 3:30 a.m. He seems to be suffering from a case of amnesia, leaving local law enforcement at a crossroads. Here's a clip we snapped earlier at the Numban Health Center._ "

The video flicked to a short clip of Hanzo in a gurney, with dark circles and scowl. Brigitte gasped, "That's him!" She said, Lena and Lucio looking lost for only a single second before it clicked. 

Meanwhile, McCree turned up the volume. _"Sir? Sir?"_ The interviewer was a scrawny, dark haired woman, with big eyes and a fast gait to keep up with the medical staff pushing his bed. _"Sir, can you tell me your name?"_

He gave a familiar scoff, and immediately Jesse's expression hardened. _"Of course I can tell you my name,"_ Hanzo insisted, though as his eyes flicked around rapidly, his confusion becoming more obvious. _"It's..."_ Clearing his throat, he went silent as he continued to try to think, glare sharpening, _"This is absurd, of course I know it!"_ The interviewer continued to trot along side his bed, patiently waiting for an answer and pushing her microphone another inch closer. He furrowed his brow in thought, before noticing the microphone. _"It's. . . Get that thing out of my face!"_ He eventually barked, settling back down and turning his gaze away proudly. _"This must some form of harassment."_

"Wow. He's just..... _like that_ ," Lena commented with lofted brows. "Even when he can't remember a bloody thing, he still acts better than everyone! Maybe it's genetic."

"Shh, wait-" Lucio hushed, waving a hand as the segment continued.

 _"- had a visitor earlier today, but the man claimed it was a mistake."_ There was a shakily filmed shot of a man in sunglasses leaving the facilities, who didn't seem to be very defined until McCree noticed his hair color.

Green.

"He left 'im," McCree commented, earning several confused looks. "That man right there's his brother. Genji, I think? He left him! He's such a terror even his own brother left him in a psych ward for a break!"

"There's _no way_ -" Hana started, before she looked back to the article. The video was over, but none of them could stop staring, "What kind of brother does that?!"

"Hell, wouldn't you if you were related to him?" Gabe groused, turning back to the food that was finished cooking. "Though that kills the idea of going up there for a refund. He doesn't know his own name, what makes you think he knows he's wealthy and owes you anything?"

"Maybe we should just pick him up anyways, get some free labor from him," Hana teased. Easing her phone away from McCree, her movement slowed. ".... Actually-"

"No," Gabe shut down immediately, scooping french fries onto a plate.

"Oh come on! This is a golden opportunity! His own family left him there, he owes Jesse thousands-"

"So what? You're gonna kidnap a guy for ransom?" Gabe asked, passing Brigitte a plate of food. "Come on mija, you know you aren't that kinda people."

"I mean ransom, no. But..." McCree shrugged, glancing to the side, "If I said he was my husband, I could fast track him as a business partner and use him to refinance my loan and save Deadeye," Jesse said, rendering the room silent as everyone turned to look at him. "... What?"

"Are you seriously suggesting that?" Gabe deapanned.

"What if I am?" Looking around at them, he shrugged, "I went the honest route once, and it ain't like he don't owe me. Olivia could make me a few papers in less than an hour."

"That's a felony!" Gabriel barked back, only to get a shit eating grin in return.

"It fooled you before," Jesse pointed out, Gabe glaring in return.

"So wait. We go get him, and we act like we know him and that you two are married, and we may not all lose our jobs?" Hana said, only for Gabe to huff.

"It's not that easy and you know it. "

"Why isn't it?" She asked, raising her hands in an innocent surrender, "All I'm hearing is a win win! He gets out of Numban, we all keep our jobs and livelyhood! Do you really want me to be homeless before the age of 25?"

"What about the part where he remembers who the hell he is?" Gabe challenged.

"Who's to say he will?" Brigitte asked, earning a cheer from Hana. Now that Gabe's pinning gaze was on her, she didn't speak as confidently, but still shrugged. "We can tell him his brother left him here, and paid us to keep him occupied so he could go gallivanting. If he's the type of brother to leave him, he's the type to do that."

"Oooh that's actually a good touch," Lucio admitted, "Plus, if he remembers McCree, he'll remember owing him money and would believe he'd accept cash to babysit. Also didn't he think this place was terrible? May be nice for him to live here for a bit, get a taste of the local life and climb off the high horse. We could say that was his brothers idea too!"

"Are you listening to yourselves?" Lena asked, getting an appreciative look from Gabriel. 

"Thank you, Lena, for being rational-"

"We should just blackmail his brother!" She continued, "Jesse has his number from taking the call! We could absolutely insist on getting payment or else we leak his abandonment to the press!"

"Holy shit you're all fucking insane," Gabe relented, looking at all of them with wide eyes, "You really wanna bring this guy into your life like he's not gonna ruin it? Kidnapping, forgery, _blackmail?_. I know I raised you better than that."

Thinking on it, Jesse gave a dramatic frown. "I mean. Not really boss, you n' I've killed a lotta people in our lifetime. Kidnapped, too. I don't think is much worse than anything else we've done."

Growling low in his throat, Gabriel couldn't process the stupidity of that statement. "Jesse-"

"Lena I gotta borrow your truck," Jesse said, the team around him scrambling for shoes and coats.

"Aye aye!" She all but chirped, sprinting into the living room as Gabe groaned.

"Mijo-" He started, before Jesse gave too wide of a grin. There was no winning this argument and Gabe knew it, but he'd still try. "This is-"

"This, boss, is what we call a silver linin'. Lu, can you grab my arm? I gotta make a call." Pushing himself to stand, Jesse took another french fry, Gabe crossing his arms over his chest again. He got a call of confirmation from Lucio, while he listened to Hana all but cheer in the next room.

"You're corrupting a bunch of children," Gabe insisted, while Jesse pulled out his phone.

"This was mostly their brainwork, plus Lena's my age," Jesse assured, dialing one handed. The number seemed impossibly long, a total of 17 digits. It rang for less than half a second.

"Joel," A familiar voice greeted, earning a groan from Jesse.

"You know better than that, _Olivia_ ," Jesse said, a sigh playing from the other end of the phone.

"Even if this is a secure line, you know it's Sombra," she insisted, though she didn't sound mad. Instead, she sounded amused, the pop of her gum loud in the reciever. "It's been too long. What do you need?"

"You still keep that skillset of yours sharp?"

"As a tack," Sombra promised, before giving a hum. "Am I hearing that I get to have some fun?"

Glancing back at Gabe as he made it to the front door, his adopted father flipped him off. That was basically a promise to keep up the lie, even if he wasn't happy, and McCree was grateful for it.

This was fucking insane, this was a horrible idea, and yet he shrugged. Maybe his faith in Olivia was too much, or maybe he just really wanted to not lose his business, but this batshit plan may just work if it was her doing the paperwork. "I think this may be juuuuust up your alley."

A few key clicks, and Sombra cleared her throat. "detalles, ahora."

-

"I can't believe we're doing this," Brigitte said for the fifteenth time in a row. "Amnesia is so rare that usually it self-solves within the first few hours! If he doesn't remember Jesse when he sees him, then maybe, _maybe_ this may work-"

"Stop being such a worrywart!" Hana insisted, though she was picking at her fingernails. "You and Lucio had a good backup plan. If he gets smart about it, we'll show him the video of his brother leaving him! That's incriminating and gives our story some guts."

"What's his name again?" Lena asked, pulling up to McCree's house and parking her truck. It was a decent distance between McCree's and Gabe's, and Jesse had already gotten whatever papers he'd needed on the ride over. How fast did that shadow lady even _work_?

"Hanson McCree," Jesse said, giving a big gust of air when he looked at the document again. Sombra didn't hold back; A marriage license that dated back seven months, along with a birth certificate, social security card, a standing 786 on Hanzo's fake credit score ("I wanted to make it convincing," Sombra had insisted). There was even a fake passport in there, though how she got a good picture of Hanzo, he didn't know. Nor would he ask.

"How do you know that chick again?" Lucio asked, and McCree shrugged.

"Long time ago, in the past. She owes me."

"I can't believe we're doing this," Brigitte repeated yet again, causing McCree to look over at her.

"Look, guys-" Looking between the car full of his employees, he was frustrated that he could see exactly what Gabe was saying. "You can remove yourself from this. This is, by all means, about as crazy as a soup sandwich. I ain't about to put you guys at risk over this, and I ain't havin' anyone cop a felony for it."

The car went silent for a moment as the statement sunk in. It was a fair point; The legality of their upcoming actions was basically nil, and they would be considered accomplices if anyone ever caught wind of this. McCree was mostly banking on the idea that the rich brother would pay things away for the silence of his abandonment of his brother, which he only guessed from experience. Money could solve most problems, and right now they had zero money and many problems.

The air seemed so heavy before surprisingly, Lena started laughing. It was a quiet chuckle at first, but soon turned into a whole guffaw. It threw McCree for a loop, but before he knew it, Lucio joined in. Then Hana, then Brigitte, and then, Jesse himself. It was full belly laughter, the insanity of what they were about to do so clear that it was damn near suffocating and completely hilarious.

When they finally ended up with hiccuping chuckles, Hana was the first to speak. "Pssh, what? Hanson is your husband, you guys got married months ago when you visited Aomori." He'd actually visited New Mexico seven months ago, but what mattered was that he (now) had a digital receipt to a plane ticket that said he visited Aomori. "You don't talk about him at all because you were waiting for him to move here and to introduce him in person, duh."

"You've talked to all of us about him before, but wanted to leave it a surprise for Fareeha, and Ana, and basically everyone else," Brigitte insisted.

"Except for Gabe. But he doesn't approve," Lucio chuckled, "He thinks y'all rushed into it."

"And we are but your clueless employees that were all too happy to show you the news report that someone washed up looking like him! And if he never remembers, we call his brother after the loan goes through and use the blackmail route and use your contact to get rid of Hanson McCree." Lena finished, her grin wide. "Meanwhile, all of us are completely in the dark to your nefarious, illegal ways of obtaining a husband."

"Just the way it should be," Jesse agreed, "Now don't any of y'all have jobs today to get done?"

"Ugh, we'll double check. We need a manager to keep this stuff organized," Hana groused, her excitement knocked down a peg at the prospect of menial work. "This is too dramatic to go back to fixing ovens like nothing is new!"

"Nothing is new, remember? This is just surprisin' info and y'all are gonna be here actin' like fully normal human beings when I get back." Shooing Lena out of her truck, McCree took over the drivers seat as his motley crew scrambled out. "Go, work, live life, and I'll be back."

"Unless the coppers get you on the way back," Lena said, blowing a raspberry as she walked away. When Lucio was slipping out of the car, Jesse stopped him, leaning in.

"Can you do me a favor?" He asked, looking at their technician critically while Lucio tipped his head. "Explain this plan to Fareeha. Not Ana, she'd wring my neck and fry me, but Fareeha. She saw him when we were on the boat, and I don't want her to choke on her tongue if we pull this off and bring him home."

"Oh, psh, man, you had me worried! Gettin' all serious, jeez." Waving a hand, Lucio let out the breath he was holding. "I've got her covered, you just focus on 'Hanson', yeah?"

Giving his thanks and shooing Lucio out, Jesse put the car in reverse, beginning the hour long trip up to the Numban Center with the radio off and the windows down.

-

"I wondered if he was.... personable enough for a partner," Angela admitted, leading Jesse down the hallway to their isolation ward. She'd jumped at the idea of someone identifying their John Doe, and for it being someone she recognized, she was doubly happy. "How come Fareeha has not told me about him?"

"She don't know a thing," Jesse admitted with faux sheepishness, turning the brim of his hat in his hands as they walked. "I wanted to surprise the Amari's and most everyone else, but I guess plans change when your hubby falls of a boat and nearly dies."

"I can imagine," she agreed, though she still gave a small smile. "I thought you were visiting home all those months ago."

"That was just a cover up story," Jesse lied, letting Angela use her keycard to get into the security door outside the ward. "You know me, I'm a private guy."

"That you are," she hummed, "Well I offer my congratulations, and I must thank you. Hanson has been a difficult patient."

"Yeah, that's my Han," McCree grinned, this time his smile being a genuine one. "The news made him out to be a little firecracker, but he was sweet as a button with me since the day we met."

"I blame that solely on your charm," Angela sighed, pinching the bridge of your nose, "Jesse, I must warn you. If you are expecting a sweet husband who will recognize you like this is a movie-"

"Nah nah nah, I understand doc. I know he probably won't recognize me, and he may never! But he ain't got any other family, and memory or not, he's my husband! I gotta bring him home."

"Of course." Opening the main door into Hanzo's room, Jesse felt his stomach flip at the sight of Hanzo, pacing like a caged tiger. His wild gaze settled on the pair of intruders, and Jesse had to bite back a laugh. With seawater dried hair, it looked like a lions mane.

He was actually doing this.

"Hanny!" he all but called out, arms spread wide in a hail Mary as two more nurses joined them in the room. It seemed that their small staff had a hell of a time wrangling Hanzo for this long, and they were interested in seeing who was willingly claiming such a patient.

McCree took two whole steps forward before Hanzo barked out the word, "Stop!" and sent his blood going cold. Fuck. Did Hanzo recognize him? Did this plan completely fail before it started? Hanzo looked between McCree and Dr. Ziegler, and back again. "I don't recognize this man."

"Your husband has had almost a complete loss of memory," Angela explained sympathetically, touching Jesse's arm while Hanzo's eyes almost bugged out of his head. It took everything in McCree's power not to crack up, considering Angie really did seem to feel sorry for him.

"I just-" Running a hand through his hair, McCree put his mechanical fingers right over his heart. "I was really hopin' he'd recognize me, s'all."

Looking him up and down, Hanzo turned to Angela, pointing at McCree. "This missing-link person is _not_ my husband." His outburst caused another doctor to peek their head into the open doorway, the interest of most of the staff caught by the room in question.

"Oh Hanson, come on-" Jesse began, taking yet another step forward as Hanzo took a step back.

"Hanson." He weighed the name on his tongue, looking away before looking back at McCree with anger in his frame. "Hanson." A pause. "No. No, Hanson is not my name."

"Oh my Lord-" Taking two large strides, Jesse used a flat palm to set a hand on Hanzo's shoulder, urging him to sit on the edge of his bed while Hanzo froze up at the contact, "Honey, this is crazy. I'm Jesse McCree, we've been married for 7 months, you were movin' down to King's Cove to live with me n' go into business with me-"

"Look!" Hanzo barked, rendering the room of doctors and Jesse silent. "I admit I have forgotten... numerous things," he said, his frustration bright enough that Jesse could cheer, "But I truly, from the depths of my soul, do not remember you!"

"I-" Looking convincingly hurt, Jesse swallowed his grin as he put a hand over his chest, getting a sympathetic look from the doctor. "Why honeybuns, I can't believe you don't remember your own husband!"

"Would there not be some spark of recognition?" Hanzo countered, looking at Angela for backup as he stood and paced again, "He could be a stranger off the streets."

"Well, I know him personally, and he is not. Plus, he seems to like you, and he's a very nice man," Angela said, shooing him back towards McCree. "He showed me your birth certificate, your passport, everything."

"What is my full name?" Hanzo asked sharply.

"Mr. Hanson McCree," Jesse answered like a smartass, earning a snarl.

"My _actual_ surname."

"Well that's still McCree, but it used to be Wheeler."

Getting a struck expression, Hanzo looked disgusted. "Hanson Wheeler? Where was I raised, a department store?"

"Nah, you were born over in Antler, Oklahoma! Granted you moved to Japan 'bout five years ago and-" Hanzo visibly startled at the mention of Japan, and for a moment Jesse was sure he'd fucked up, perhaps triggered a substantial memory. "You good honey?"

Hanzo was looking more and more unsure with each passing moment, and perhaps he recognized Japan just enough for it to give the story validity. "How did we meet?" He challenged.

"An online sales group. You were gettin' rid of stuff from your home in Oklahoma and had some nice farmin' gear, and I drove up from New Mexico on one of my trips home to buy it from ya. Hell of a drive just to flirt, but-" Giving a charming shrug, Hanzo's horror worsened.

"I was a _farmer_?"

"Oh baby, you gotta remember that you owned a farm! Gimme a minute, I think I still have pictures of you on a horse," McCree fibbed, pulling out his phone like he would actually be able to find said pictures.

"I _do not_ remember! I do not remember owning a farm, I do not remember the name Wheeler, and I do not remember you!" Looking around at the doctors, Hanzo rubbed a hand over his face. "I want proof!"

"Mr. McCree-" Angela began in regards to Hanzo, and the man looked feral at the use of it, "What proof would you like? We can offer it, we'd hardly let you go home with someone dangerous."

"I... Don't properly know," He admitted, though he couldn't seem to unwind. "I do not know what type of proof I want, but I know that I want some form of it. Surely, if this man is my _husband_ , there must be substantial proof!"

"I've got all the proof you could want," McCree assured, shrugging, "Papers galore, outsid'a what I lost in the move. Or I could just comment on how far down that dragon tattoo'a yours goes from what I remember _very_ well and call it a day."

Next to him, Angela gave a sharp cough that sounded suspiciously like a bitten laugh, while the other medical staff all suddenly found something very interesting to look at on the ceiling. Staring at McCree like he'd insulted him, Hanzo glanced down at his left arm, able to clearly see the bright ink on his skin. He was wearing a hospital gown, and only broke eye contact with Jesse to pull away the collar of the gown and look down.

Jesse McCree wasn't a betting man, but when he was, it usually came in handy. A man like Hanzo wouldn't halfass a tattoo, and the memory of Hanzo shirtless when they met proved its worth; When Hanzo finally looked back up, the alarmed look of resignation on his face was a shock to the whole room, all the medical staff sighing in relief. Alarmed resignation was still resignation, and that meant they would _finally_ be sending him home. "Welcome home Han," Jesse greeted with a wide grin.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ((If yall have any feedback I'd love it, bc I am so blind to this chapter and storyline rn from how much I wrote in one go lmao. also Gabriel is the only voice of reason in this entire story. Next chapter everything will be Happening So Much™, with more comedy and more from the Chronic Dumbasses™


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